


Something to Think About

by Magz (sparklepocalypse)



Category: CW Network RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-13 15:44:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4527885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparklepocalypse/pseuds/Magz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Here he was, in the backseat of a cab and inching along through a traffic jam back to his apartment, and he was <i>not thinking about it</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something to Think About

**Author's Note:**

> Have you ever started writing pr0n and then it mutated into something long with plot? That's this story -- all 7,700 words of it. I swear it was going to be a PWP, really. Many thanks to [](http://marishna.livejournal.com/profile)[marishna](http://marishna.livejournal.com/) for the beta and for helping me out with one scene in particular.

Jared was stuck in traffic, and that wasn't the most troublesome thing about this morning. His headache had finally dissipated, but no matter how he tried to get the taste of the morning after out of his mouth, it seemed to linger. He was resolutely _not_ thinking about the circumstances regarding his being on the road during the morning rush when he wasn't due on set until three in the afternoon.

He took a swig from his water bottle, and as a bit of cold liquid escaped his mouth and trickled down his throat, a hot, phantom tongue chased them. But he wasn't thinking about it.

His first reaction when he'd woken hadn't been so much of a, "Holy _fuck_ , I cheated on Sandy," as it'd been a, "Holy _fuck_ , I wish I could remember." But then thoughts of a breakup had raced through his mind, and he'd eased out of bed and left his one night stand asleep in the bed that they'd practically destroyed the night before.

And now here he was, in the backseat of a cab and inching along through a traffic jam back to his apartment, and he was _not thinking about it_.

He sort of wanted to pound his head against something until those random flashes of sweat and skin stopped assailing his mind. But he was out of painkillers, so he gritted his teeth, took another swig of water, and pretended not to remember the way Jensen had hugged his pillow when he'd left.

 

On set, Jensen seemed not to remember at all, and maybe he really didn't. It was completely unfair, because here Jared was, agonizing over what had and hadn't happened last night, and all Jensen could do was grin in that easy way that said he'd gotten some but it'd all been a blur.

Jensen appeared next to him at craft services while the crew was setting up the next shot. "Where'd you end up last night?" he asked. "I don't remember a _thing_ after that third round of shots."

"Makes sense, considering the four beers you had before you started on shots, and the bowl you smoked on the way to the bar," Jared said. He piled some fruit onto a napkin and headed over to a big tree, settling on the grass underneath it.

Jensen grinned. "Yeah, I was pretty wasted," he agreed. "So where'd you go?"

"I went home," Jared lied when Jensen flopped down beside him, hoping that Jensen wouldn't be able to read him as well as he usually could. Jared was a decent actor, but he couldn't lie worth a damn. "Y'know, watched some TV, caught up on fan mail."

"I was gonna ask if you saw who I took home," Jensen said. He lay back on the grass and stacked his hands behind his head. "Man, I felt _so_ fucked out this morning. He must've been great."

Jared choked on a grape.

Jensen gave Jared a strange look. "I thought you said you're okay with me being bi," he said.

"I am!" Jared protested. And he'd been way more than okay with it last night. But that was one of those things he wasn't thinking about.

 

By nightfall, Jared had pieced together what he remembered, and he'd totally given up on not thinking about it.

 _It was hot at the bar, because the asshole manager was too cheap for A/C, and the only drinks Jared would take had tons of ice in them._ So maybe he wasn't quite as drunk as some of the other guys -- Mike was seconds away from dancing on the pool table, after all -- but he'd built up a good buzz.

He thought maybe that's why he didn't turn him down when Jensen started leaning too close and turning that look -- _the_ look, the one that made people beg to do whatever Jensen wanted them to -- on him.

"Shots," Jensen proclaimed. "I'm buying."

The buzz became a roar after the first round, and Jensen started to _touch_. After the second round, Jared was just as handsy, though he was keeping things above -- or _well_ below -- the belt. The third round had someone calling them a cab, because it might've been Vancouver, but having dirty, naked sex on bars only happened in pornos, and damn if Jared wasn't _thisclose_ to dry-humping Jensen if he didn't quit with the groping.

Jared wasn't exactly sure who'd blurted out Jensen's address, but he thought he saw the taxi driver watching once or twice in the rear-view mirror while tongues stuttered over goosefleshed skin and hands went where those hands had never gone before. Jensen was moaning really loudly, and Jared shushed him, snickering, then shoved a thigh between Jensen's legs.

There was a blank space in Jared's memory between shoving up Jensen's shirt in the backseat of the cab and finding himself laid out with 6'1" of drunk, naked co-star on top of him. They rolled over, hips shoving against hips, and Jared flailed for a moment as he lost his balance and nearly fell off the bed. Jensen yanked him closer and they rolled again, this time in the opposite direction.

The first time Jensen asked, Jared didn't hear him. Pretty unbelievable considering the request, but considering that Jared was busy rubbing his cock against Jensen's, maybe it wasn't so unbelievable after all. And when Jensen's tongue trailed up his jaw, then chased a bite to his earlobe before he rasped, "Jared. Fuck me," Jared's whole damn body heard him.

"I -- you -- " Jared said helplessly as Jensen pressed a condom and lube into his hands. He was drunk as hell but even more turned on, and all he could do was stare at the rubber and the slick until Jensen snatched the condom back and tore it open, then rolled it down Jared's cock. Jared's eyelids drooped and he bit his lip as Jensen tugged on his dick a few times, then released him.

Jared fumbled the lube when Jensen shoved him off long enough to turn onto his front and spread his legs, and fuck, Jared's good-boy upbringing showed through when the first thing he thought was, "Holy shit, I'm going to put _that_ in _there_?!" And then, again, but this time his mind had a whole different tone of voice. Because holy shit, he was going to put _that_ in _there_.

He flipped the cap on the lube and it drizzled over his fingers, dripped down onto the bedspread when he squeezed the bottle a little too hard. He closed it up, tossed it to the side, and for a minute, he just _stared_ , because Jensen was humping against the bed with his hands behind his back, holding his cheeks open. And maybe Jared's hands were shaking a bit when he reached down with his slippery fingers and touched Jensen's little hole, but they shook a whole lot when Jensen started talking.

"Use two. I can take two, do it," Jensen muttered, and he trailed off into a jibbered string of moans and curses when Jared did just that. And fuck if Jensen wasn't humping down into the mattress, then up against Jared's hand. Jared had to squeeze his other hand around the base of his cock just to see straight enough to watch his fingers painting Jensen's asshole all wet and slick, to watch those few, blondish hairs around the hole darken with lube.

"Jensen, I -- _fuck_ ," Jared panted, slipping his fingers in and out a few times for good measure, and years of vocal coaching were _gone_ as he declared, "I need to be in you now." It was probably the most coherent thing he'd said since they'd left the bar, but who needed coherency when Jensen fucking Ackles was squirming underneath him and begging to be fucked?

Jensen wiggled his hips and squirmed toward the head of the bed until Jared's fingers slipped right out, and then he was _right there_ , legs spread, reaching around behind himself and grabbing Jared's dick to guide it forward. "Fuck my ass," he groaned, and pushed back against Jared's cock.

Another blank in Jared's memory obscured what he knew was there anyway -- thrusting into Jensen for the first time, fucking him slow and deep and hard -- but he could still taste the sweat and skin between Jensen's shoulder blades. Jared pressed his face against Jensen's back and licked up and down his spine as far as he could reach while he continued to jar Jensen's body with every slap of his hips against Jensen's upturned ass.

After one particularly hard thrust, all of a sudden Jensen was keening and shuddering, and his hole was clenching down on Jared's cock. Jared's own climax was just out of reach, obscured by the haze of alcohol, so he fucked Jensen right through the spasms and the shudders until he was moaning in oversensitized pleasurepain under him. Then, without warning, the world went bright and blurry as Jared bit down on Jensen's shoulder and came.

Jared had vague flashes of waking up during the night, still drunk, and doing it all over again. Of licking that puffy, pink little hole until Jensen was whimpering and begging. Of rubbing his dick against Jensen's belly until it spurted between them. Of the way Jensen had clung to his shoulders through orgasm number four -- or was it five?

Of waking up this morning and not wanting to _move_ , partly because a headache was starting to pound behind his eyes, and partly because he didn't think he _could_ move without noticing exactly how much of a workout he'd had during the night.

And where'd all this remembering leave him? In Impala #2, trying to will down a pretty insistent hard-on and to remember his lines at the same time.

 

"Hey, man, you coming out tonight?" Jensen asked as they headed for the trailers to get changed and cleaned up.

"Nah," Jared replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm beat. I think I'm probably just gonna order some take-out and rent a couple shitty movies." Whether he'd actually watch those movies, instead of heading straight for the bedroom as soon as he got home so he could rub himself to a blistering climax, was another question entirely.

"Yeah, okay," Jensen replied, "Grandpa."

"What?"

"Dude, you're younger than me. You should have even more energy reserved for partying than I do." He ambled past Jared's trailer, calling over his shoulder, "You're going to wake up at fifty and wish you'd gone out more."

"Yeah, yeah," Jared replied. He climbed up into his trailer and shut the door a little too hard behind him.

 

As it turned out, Jared was more drained than he'd thought, because the idea of take-out and shitty movies seemed all the more appealing on his way home. He wound up on his sofa with some halfway-decent barbecue and _The Hole_ in the DVD player, and was almost to the good part when his doorbell rang.

Sadie clambered to her feet and growled once, then sniffed the air and flopped back onto her bed, and Harley just opened his eyes for a minute and then closed them again. "Some guard dogs you are," Jared said, shaking his head in amusement.

He shut the styrofoam take-out box and tossed it on the coffee table, then stood and streeeetched, his back and shoulders popping, and walked to the door to peer through the peephole. He was only a little surprised to see Jensen standing on his welcome mat.

He unlatched and opened the door and, after Jensen pushed his way inside, said lamely, "Come on in."

"So here's the thing," Jensen said, standing close and shrugging out of his coat. "I wasn't that drunk."

Jared's heart thudded in his chest and he frowned. "What?"

"I," Jensen murmured, stepping closer, "remember. Everything."

Jared looked away, swallowing convulsively. "I don't know what you're -- "

"Don't play stupid, Jared," Jensen said, and pushed him flat up against the door.

"I can't -- " Jared began, shaking his head.

Jensen reached behind Jared and locked the door with a _snick_. Maybe he was standing on his toes, or maybe Jared was sliding down the door, because suddenly Jensen's mouth was on his and Jared didn't have to lower his head at all.

When Jensen pulled back, he licked his lips. "You had barbecue and didn't invite me?" he asked. "Some friend you are."

Jared snickered. Then he snorted. Then he let out a full-bodied guffaw that had Jensen giving him an odd look. "I cheated on my _girlfriend_ with you, and I'm way more okay with that than I should be," Jared laughed. "Not to mention that all that sex last night probably threw a wrench into the gears of our working relationship. A minute ago you were swabbing my tonsils with your tongue, and now you're complaining about _barbecue_." He wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands. "My life is so surreal."

"Dude, you okay?" Jensen asked, concerned. "I could leave -- "

"Nah, don't go," Jared said. "Come watch _The Hole_ with me, man. Keira Knightley's about to get naked, and we can make out on the couch like teenagers."

"You sure you're okay?" Jensen asked again. "Because dude, you just cracked up a little, and if you're going to lose it then I don't think I want to be here."

"I'm fine," Jared replied. "Just a little overwhelmed, maybe." He returned to the couch and flopped down on it in a comfortable sprawl, beckoning for Jensen to join him.

Jensen sat down carefully, almost on the edge of the couch, glancing worriedly at Jared.

"Man, I'm not gonna hurt you if you relax. Stop looking at me like I'm psycho." Jared hit the pause button on the DVD remote and the movie started up again. Then he grabbed Jensen by the wrist and hauled him up next to him, draping an arm around his shoulders.

"Jared -- " Jensen began, then stopped abruptly as Jared's hand landed on his thigh. He sighed. "I'll admit that I came here wanting to start something, but if you're not okay with that -- "

"Shh," Jared said, and pointed at the screen. "Watch the movie."

 

Naked Keira Knightley aside, there really wasn't anything engrossing about the DVD, which probably explained how Jared ended up laid out on the sofa with his shirt off and Jensen sprawled on top of him, sucking on his Adam's apple. His fingers dug into Jensen's shoulders, but he pulled his hands away when Jensen let out a soft hiss. "Did that hurt?" he asked, eyes rolling back a little as Jensen kissed his jaw, his ear, his throat.

"You gave me a pretty big bruise last night," Jensen said against Jared's cheek, "When you came, you bit me," and his words made Jared hump up against him helplessly.

"Not fair," Jared muttered with all the petulance of a surly three-year-old but all the pent-up sexual frustration of a twentysomething guy who hadn't gotten laid in a very long time, which was -- considering the previous night -- pretty ridiculous. "You talk like that, I'm gonna come in my pants."

Jensen whuffed out a soft laugh and nipped at the tender spot just below Jared's ear. "Maybe I want you to," he said.

"Okay, dude -- no," Jared half-moaned as Jensen set about trying to find every single one of his spots above the waist with his lips, tongue, and fingertips. " _Bed_ ," he insisted, "I don't want to ruin these pants."

"Too bad," Jensen muttered as he absolutely didn't move to let Jared up, "'cause it'd be fucking _hot_." He treated Jared to a full-body squirm, and then he was up and off him, and halfway to the bedroom by the time Jared had willed himself to move.

Jared tripped over Jensen's jeans in the hallway, and a pair of underwear that weren't his caught on his foot just inside the door of the bedroom. He kicked them off, his own jeans down to his knees, and shuffled forward, a little impatient with the restriction on his range of movement.

His eyes fixed on Jensen, who was jerking himself off almost lazily with a predatory look in his eyes, and if Jared didn't know any better he'd guess that any minute now, Jensen would be crawling toward him across the bed. Jared hopped around until his jeans fell off, then shucked off his boxers and dove onto the bed. The springs bounced and both of them snickered a little.

"We're gonna do this sober," Jensen said, and then he scooted down the bed and licked Jared's cock up and down like it was a fucking popsicle, and all Jared could do was to grab onto the bedspread and _cling_.

Jared bucked his hips and Jensen let him, and it was pretty much the hottest thing ever until one very enthusiastic hump knocked Jensen in the nose pretty hard, so Jensen held him down against the bed and sucked him until he screamed, which completely trumped the hip-bucking. And when Jensen pulled those full lips up and off his cock, maybe Jared whimpered a little, but all was forgiven when he felt those same lips nuzzling against his balls. He sucked softly on the loose skin of Jared's sac, and Jared's cell phone rang.

"Leave it," Jensen suggested, lips parting to take one of Jared's balls into his mouth.

Jared pushed him away. "I can't," he muttered, and he scrambled off the bed, cupping his cock to prevent it from bouncing as he crossed the room and dug in his jeans for the phone. "I -- " he flipped the phone open. "Hey, Sandy." He glanced at Jensen, who was now sitting up on the bed with his legs crossed, then looked away. "... I miss you too."

Jensen plucked a throw blanket off the end of the bed and wrapped it around his waist, then casually headed for the bedroom door. "I'll go," he mouthed.

Jared shook his head, only half-listening to his girlfriend talk about how hard it was to find an acting gig these days, and wasn't he lucky to have a full-time job on the show. His dick slowly wilted, and then he was standing in the middle of his bedroom like a big, sweaty, naked dork.

He heard the front door open and close.

Make that a big, sweaty, naked, _solitary_ dork.

 

Chad was bitchy when people woke him up, Jared knew this. Somehow, though, he couldn't bring himself to care as he dialed his number. With the time difference, it'd be close to 3 AM in Wilmington.

"Dude, what the hell are you doing calling me this late? I've got to be on set early."

"Consider it payback for the incident with the ant farm," Jared said with a snicker. Then he sobered. "Man, I fucked up."

"What'd you do, fuck Jensen?" Chad mumbled into the receiver.

Jared didn't reply.

"Oh _shit_ , you did," Chad realized.

Jared sighed. There was some rustling on the other end. "What do I do?"

"Do?" Chad asked. Another pause. "Oh, sorry. I'm just having trouble wrapping my mind around the fact that for once, your life is more screwed up than mine."

"Yeah, well I'm still not dating an eighteen-year-old," Jared shot back.

"Says the guy who's boning his big brother."

"At least I'm not banned from his prom."

"At least -- " Chad cut off. "Okay, you got me there. Man, what were you _thinking_?"

"Alcohol tasty?" Jared said feebly.

"Yeah, that's about what I was thinking when I proposed to Sophia."

Jared sighed again. "It wouldn't be so bad if it were just a drunken one-night stand, but there was almost a repeat tonight, and both of us were completely sober."

"Dude, you're fucked up."

Jared rolled his eyes.

"So what are you gonna do? Are you gonna tell Sandy what happened?"

"Fuck _no_ ," Jared said abruptly. "I love her, man."

"Funny way of showing it," Chad muttered. "Do you want to screw Jensen again?"

Jared closed his eyes. " ... _fuck_ yes," he muttered.

"Whoa, whoa, this ain't phone sex, dude. Easy on the moaning."

"Shut up."

"So let me get this straight," Chad said. "You called me at... 3:10 AM to tell me that you cheated on your girlfriend and that you want to keep on cheating, without letting her know what's going on? Couldn't this have waited until morning?"

"No," Jared said miserably. "Tell me what to do, man. You've got more experience with screwed-up relationships."

"Nice, man. Real nice." There was some more rustling. "Listen, I really do need to sleep, or the makeup girls will have my ass for breakfast, and not in that fun way that you've no doubt explored with your co-star."

"Dude," Jared mumbled, "not cool."

"Neither is reminding me about _very_ big past mistakes," Chad retorted. "Just -- tell Sandy, man. Or don't, it's up to you. I'm hanging up now."

"But -- " Jared said, to the click of the connection being broken. He closed his phone with a snap. "Fuck."

 

Jared wandered into the craft services tent like a zombie. "Coffee," he muttered, "need coffee." He'd been up almost all weekend trying to figure out what the hell he was going to do, and it'd taken a visible toll on him. He thought maybe this fifth cup of coffee might help, though.

It'd been agony trying to decide between Jensen and Sandy. If he chose Sandy, his friendship and onscreen chemistry with Jensen might be totally screwed up, and at any rate he wasn't sure he wanted to do without all the amazing, _amazing_ sex or Jensen in general -- but on the other hand, he'd still have the girl he'd sometimes thought of marrying someday. If he chose Jensen, Sandy would be heartbroken and he probably would too, and it'd mean possibly taking the next step with Jensen but he didn't know what to _do_ because he'd never taken that step with a guy before, and if they broke up then their dynamic would be fucked and he'd be out of a job, and it was driving him crazy --

"Jared, you okay?" asked one of the sound guys as he filled his own coffee cup.

Jared nodded stiffly. "Fine," he said, and took a swig from his now perilously warped styrofoam cup. "I'm fine."

He wasn't a greedy guy by nature, but a few times over the weekend Jared had seriously thought about having his cake and eating it too. He just had no idea who was the cake part, and who was the eating. Or if it really mattered who was who.

He thought maybe he needed therapy, or advice from someone whose life was mostly together. Maybe it'd been a bad idea to call Chad. This looked like a job for Superman.

 

Jared slumped on Tom and Jamie's couch with his head bowed and a cup of tea that Jamie swore by for de-stressing in his hands. Tom was sitting opposite him in an easy chair, drinking a beer. He'd offered Jared one, but thought better of it when he'd seen how wired he was from so much caffeine, and he was probably right. The last thing Jared needed right now was _drunken_ jitters.

"I just don't know what to do," Jared said, ignoring the way his voice cracked.

"You got drunk and slept with your co-star," Tom said reasonably. "You need to tell Sandy."

"But what if she -- "

"Jamie didn't break up with me when I told her about the night I got drunk and woke up with Mike," Tom replied. "Women are more level-headed and accepting than we usually give them credit for."

"What do I tell her about the next night, though?" Jared asked, and he took a sip of the tea, waiting for it to work like Tom said it did.

"Don't," Tom replied. "Unless you want her to dump you, or something."

"I -- what?" Jared blinked. "I thought you said she'd be accepting."

"A drunken one-night stand one thing, but doing it again without the aid of alcohol is a sure-fire way to become single," Tom said. "Don't tell her unless you're prepared to be a bachelor again."

"I can't _lie_ to her, man," Jared muttered.

 

As it turned out, Jared _could_ lie to Sandy. Not that it made much difference, because when he'd told her about that alcohol-saturated night she'd immediately broken up with him.

"I hope you at least used protection," she'd hissed. "There's no telling where _he's_ been."

"But -- "

"No. _Goodbye_ , Jared. You can ship whatever I've left at your place to my publicist."

Jared had stared at the phone for a long time before hanging up.

 

So here he was, two weeks later, headed for his truck so he could get the big box of things he'd collected from his apartment and his trailer to the post office before it closed. Jared had pretty much gotten through the post-breakup blues by now, but he hadn't exactly worked anything out with Jensen. That whole thing was on hold until he got through the rebound stage.

Not that Jensen would've minded being the rebound guy -- he'd said so himself, earlier in the week when he'd finally confronted Jared about his incessant moping. "Honestly," he'd said, "the sex is hot enough that I'll take it any way I can get it."

But Jared, for reasons he hadn't even completely figured out, didn't want Jensen to be his rebound. Maybe he felt a little wrong about using the guy with whom he'd screwed up his relationship in the first place, to get himself back in the game, or maybe it was something else completely. For now anyway, he'd chalked it up to wanting to leave the Jensen-option open when it came to friends with benefits.

He climbed into the truck and started the engine, then glanced over at the box on the passenger's seat. Tonight, after he'd shipped the rest of his relationship back to Sandy, he was going out.

Tonight, he hoped, he'd plow straight through the rebound phase and be back on his way to being a _person_ again.

 

It was definitely a sign that he was absorbing entirely too much of Sam Winchester when, after a pretty disastrous attempt at nailing a bar waitress up against the side of the place, a voice in Jared's head that sounded way too much like _Dean's_ said, "Well, that was pathetic."

Jared wasn't above talking to himself in public to get rid of the voice, especially when it continued, "You'd be better off screwing Jensen, kid."

After waiting for the waitress to walk back into the bar, Jared kicked the wall in irritation. "Dammit!" he muttered, and kicked the wall once more for good measure. His toes hurt a little, but he didn't care as he wound up to kick a third time.

"That's private property, sir, and if you damage it you'll have to pay for the repairs."

Jared sagged against the wall. Obviously, that voice wasn't going to leave him alone.

"Didn't go so hot, huh?"

Turning his head, Jared saw Jensen standing nearby wearing a concerned expression. "Understatement," Jared replied. "I don't know what happened, man, I was... fumbly."

"Happens to everyone," Jensen assured him, stepping closer. "Maybe it was all sex and no chemistry there. I mean, she was hot, but -- "

"I wasn't really into her," Jared complained.

Jensen patted Jared's shoulder. "Could just be that you're just not ready yet, dude. It's only been two weeks -- there's no time limit on getting back in the saddle after a breakup."

Jared shook his head. "I have to get back out there," he said. "I'm in a funk, and it's coming through on the show in places where it shouldn't be."

"I told you -- "

"I appreciate the offer," Jared interrupted, "I _really_ do, but I don't want..." he trailed off. "You're about all I've got up here, man, besides that other ex-model and a crazy bald guy. And you know as well as I do that if a friend is your rebound, something _always_ goes wrong."

"Since when are you such a pessimist?" Jensen asked with an eyebrow raised.

Jared shrugged.

Jensen sighed. "Alright, man. But ease up on the melodrama, huh? It's gonna kill you."

 

After another week straight of moping, Jared was prepared to give up on rebound altogether. It obviously wasn't going to happen for him, and what was worse was that the fans were starting to notice. He'd been online, collecting publicity after his latest appearance, and had come across a forum where people were speculating about why he'd become so subdued.

And if the fans were noticing, it was a miracle his momma hadn't called, wanting to know what was troubling him. He loved his momma -- missed her like crazy a lot of the time, especially when it got so cold and rainy and all he wanted to do was go _home_ \-- but he wasn't sure he was prepared to deal with her.

To make matters worse, Jensen had a shirtless scene this week.

 

By the fifth take, Jared had never been more grateful for Sam's baggy clothes, because he'd been semi-hard since Jensen had walked onset in a pair of jeans, some fake blood, and a whole mess of sweat-simulating gel. He was glad that his lines in the scene were minimal, and that he'd practiced them until he could've recited them in his sleep, because after three weeks of no contact, he was getting turned on watching Jensen bandage a prosthetic wound in his side -- a sight that usually would've turned his stomach.

"Hey Sam, help me out here."

Oh, fuck. Jared was supposed to _touch_ him. "You're not doing that right," he offered, sitting down next to him on the bed and ignoring Jensen's patented Dean Glare.

"I knew you were the smart one for a reason." Jensen handed him gauze and tape. "Just slap it on, I want to get some sleep."

Jared pressed the gauze pad to the prosthetic wound and taped it quickly. He had no doubt that Jensen was wincing admirably. "You know, if you'd been less hypnotized by her chest, you would've noticed the knife. You're lucky I was there to shove you out of the way."

"Yeah, yeah," Jensen grumped. "Less bragging, more bandaging."

Affixing one last piece of tape, Jared said, "Done."

"Thank God. Where's the painkillers?" Jensen shoved off the bed and crossed the room with Dean's swagger.

"You're telling me you need painkillers for _that_?" Jared asked, shoving a hand in the pocket of Sam's hoodie. "It's barely a scratch."

"Yeah, well if it were any more scratchy I'd be eviscerated. Please tell me you didn't take the last ones."

"Okay... I didn't take the last ones."

"Sam!"

"Come on, Dean, you know I get headaches after a vision."

"You're paying for the next bottle. I swear, I don't even know why I buy them anymore."

The minute the cameras were off, Jensen pulled off the bandage. "We done here?" he asked, and when he received an affirmative response, he headed to makeup to have the silicone wound removed.

Jared sat back down on the motel-set bed and breathed deeply.

 

Every night when he got back from set, no matter what time it was, Jared took his dogs out on a jog. Tonight, just before they returned to the parking lot, Harley started barking excitedly and he and Sadie about yanked Jared's arms off in their enthusiasm to get to the car that was now parked next to his truck. Jensen was leaning against it with a paper bag in one hand and a sixer in the other.

The dogs were all over him, tongues hanging out and tails whapping his legs happily as he set the bag and the beer on the hood of the car and crouched down to greet them. He laughed when Sadie nuzzled his cheek with a wet nose and Harley slobbered all over his hands, both canines begging for a good ear-scratch.

"Man, they love you more than just about anyone," Jared said with a grin. "I don't get it -- they don't even really like my family."

"That's because your family didn't soften them up with treats," Jensen replied. He stood as Sadie started to sniff the pocket of his coat, and pulled out a couple Milkbones. "I come prepared." He tossed the treats to the dogs. Sadie snapped one out of the air, and Harley nosed his along the gravel of the driveway for a minute before gobbling it up.

"Crazy mutt," Jared said. "I've never met a dog who likes to eat dirt as much as he does."

"Don't all dogs like dirt?" Jensen asked. Sadie sniffed his pocket again and he smiled. "She knows exactly how many are in there, doesn't she?"

"She's my smart girl," Jared replied proudly. He turned toward the building. "Come on in. I hope that's food -- I'm starving."

The dogs made a beeline for the water dish in the kitchen when Jared opened the door of his apartment, and both men followed after toeing out of their shoes. "Got plates?" Jensen asked, holding up the paper bag.

"You know where they are," Jared replied. He pulled a water bottle from the refrigerator and drank half of it without a breath, then set it on the counter. "I'm gonna hop in the shower. Make yourself at home, man."

Jensen pulled two plates out of the dishwasher. "You wanna eat in the kitchen or in front of the TV?" he asked.

"Wherever," Jared called over his shoulder as he walked down the hall. He closed the bathroom door almost all the way -- Sadie, especially, liked to wander in and out while he was showering -- then shed his clothes and tossed them in the laundry hamper. He turned on the shower and got in, yelping a little when the water ran cold at first.

He thought of Jensen, somewhere in his apartment, and his dick twitched. Glaring balefully down at his groin, he muttered, "Don't start." He washed up as quickly as he could, not bothering with his full shower routine -- he'd save that for morning. As long as he smelled fresh and didn't feel gross, it'd do.

He stepped out, his toes curling on the thick pile of the bath mat as he let himself drip-dry for a moment, and then the door swung open partway as Sadie pushed her way into the room, tail waggling happily. He dodged her as she tried to rub up against him. The last thing he wanted right after a shower was to come out of it smelling like wet dog.

Grabbing a towel from the rack, Jared left the bathroom, wrapping the terrycloth around his waist. He peered down the hallway toward the living room, where Jensen was sitting in front of the television, Harley's head resting on his leg as the dog sprawled next to him. He held back a smile. "I'll be out in a minute," he called, and padded into the bedroom to throw on the first clean clothes he could find.

"Take your time," Jensen called back.

"Tee shirt, jeans," Jared muttered as he rifled through his dresser. "Really isn't that complicated, Jared. A tee shirt -- " He held one up. It was bright red, and across the chest in white block letters was emblazoned, 'I can't believe I ate the whole thing.' He shoved it back in the drawer. " -- not _that_ tee shirt. And jeans."

He was vaguely satisfied with the way he looked when he stepped out into the hallway, damp hair curling a little more than he'd like, five minutes later. He tossed the towel into the bathroom and approached the sofa, where Harley and Jensen were sprawled out comfortably. He looked at the dog, who looked right back at him with what Jared could've sworn was a smirk.

"Huh," he said, "guess I'll take the floor." He glanced at the wooden planks that were his living room floor and made as if to sit down.

"Man, we can squeeze," Jensen said, and patted what little bit of couch was left. "Come on over here."

The resultant movement on the couch caused a slightly disgruntled Harley to abandon his perch in favor of his bed, and Jared sat down comfortably, picking up his plate from the coffee table. "Are you ever going to tell me where you get this?" he asked, twirling some pasta around the tines of his fork and bringing it to his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, swallowed, and continued. "Because this is the third or fourth time you've shown up with pasta from the same place, and it tastes better every time."

"Closely-guarded secret for us big stars," Jensen replied with an airy wave and a smile behind his eyes. "They don't let just _anyone_ order from them."

"What do you have to do these days to be a big star?" Jared asked, and took another bite of pasta.

"Who," Jensen corrected.

Jared laughed. "I'm sorry, _who_ do you have to do?"

"There's this one actor -- tall, handsome, has a _gorgeous_ co-star. Jared something... you might've heard of him."

"You know, I _have_. Very talented guy. But it's too bad about that co-star."

"What do you mean?"

"He's absolutely horrible at flirting."

"Shame." Jensen plucked a noodle off Jared's plate. "Because he thinks that Jared guy might have a thing for him." He popped the noodle in his mouth and offered a closed-lipped smile.

Jared set the plate carefully back onto the coffee table, though he wasn't done with his meal. "If this conversation keeps going, we're both gonna be stuck in one of those high school chick flicks that were so popular a few years ago."

"Best to end it now, do you think?" Jensen asked, staring at Jared's mouth.

"Put it out of its misery might be a better choice of words." He put a hand on Jensen's chest and pushed and turned him until he was leaning against the back of the couch. He leaned in close, bracing himself on his arms, and watched as Jensen's pupils dialated at the proximity.

Jensen lunged up and then they were kissing, hot and deep, reacquainting themselves with each other's mouths. Tongues slid wetly together, swirling and thrusting, then running over teeth. When the kiss broke, they were both gasping.

"I was waiting for you to make the first move," Jensen panted as Jared pressed open-mouthed kisses to his throat and jaw.

"Me too," Jared mumbled. He thumbed open the top button of Jensen's shirt and lapped at the exposed skin, arching his back and raising his arms when he felt Jensen tugging at his own shirt to get it off.

Jensen slipped a hand between them to rub at the growing bulge in Jared's jeans, tangling the other hand in his hair. He squirmed under Jared as the second and third buttons on his shirt were opened in quick succession. "Man, just rip it," he whined, arching against Jared's tongue that was slowly tracing the V the fabric created on his chest.

"This is your favorite shirt," Jared argued, and flipped open another button. He pushed the fabric aside to trail the tip of his tongue over first Jensen's right nipple, then his left, and felt the hand clenching in his hair move down to his back, fingers digging in.

"I can get another one," Jensen muttered.

"Where would the fun be in that?" Buttons four, five, and six quickly went the way of the first three, and then two pairs of hands were spreading the shirt wide. Jared flicked his tongue across the rim of Jensen's navel as he unbuckled his belt, gratified by the needy moan Jensen let out, and the hands clutching at his hair. "I wanna suck you," he said, as if it weren't patently obvious by the determination on his face and the speed with which he was removing Jensen's jeans and underwear.

"Oh, Christ. Do it." Jensen shifted his hips, his cock twitching as Jared breathed over it. "Jared, _please_."

About the hottest thing Jared had ever heard was the way Jensen whimpered when he licked his cock. The head was spongy, like his own, but there wasn't a foreskin to wriggle his tongue under. It tasted clean, like skin, with the barest hint of salt and bitter, and when he sucked it into his mouth Jensen raised his hips and clutched at his hair.

Flicking his tongue underneath the ridge of Jensen's cockhead, Jared set about trying to wring more of those desperate little noises from him. He cupped Jensen's balls, rubbing his thumb along the seam between them, separating them gently and rolling them between his fingers. No whimpers followed, but Jensen let loose a string of tightly-muttered curses and groans that sent Jared's mind spinning. He ground his denim-constricted cock against the sofa, head bobbing between Jensen's legs.

When Jensen came, clutching at Jared's head and arching his back with a long, raspy moan, Jared's jaw was a little sore, but overshadowing that bit of soreness was the blinding need to bury his cock deep inside Jensen and fuck him unconscious. Slinking back up Jensen's prone body, he pressed a balled fist to the arm of the sofa on either side of Jensen's head and -- _stared_.

Jensen's eyes were closed and his face was shiny with sweat. He was panting, the even, shuddering breaths interrupted slightly as he licked his lips. His shirt, draped loosely over him, was sticking to whatever skin it touched. When Jared's jean-clad thigh brushed against one of his legs, he flinched because of what Jared could only assume was hypersensitivity.

It made him want to curl into Jensen and pet him until he purred. Still more pressing than the desire to see Jensen, body sleek as a cat, arching into gentle touches, was the need to be _in_ him. Now. His cock throbbed in its confines, hot and demanding.

Jared's bedroom and its supplies drawer had never felt so far away. "I want -- " he muttered, and he unfisted one hand to trail trembling fingers down Jensen's slick chest, watching as muscles twitched under his touch. "Jensen -- "

Jensen licked his lips again and, without opening his eyes, rasped, "Pocket of my jeans."

Later, Jared would have to remember to mock Jensen for apparent Boy Scout tendencies. For now he needed his entire concentration to pull away from Jensen's body, scramble to his feet, shuck off his jeans and underwear, and digging into Jensen's pocket to pull out a foil packet and a little plastic tube that were his salvation at that moment. He turned back to the couch and his cock jumped as his mouth suddenly felt too dry and too wet at once.

Still completely blissed out, Jensen had gotten to his knees on the cushions of the couch and draped himself over the arm. The shirt hung loosely around his body.

"Oh, _fuck_."

Jared knew his body had decided to work on autopilot when he blinked and found himself poised to push into Jensen's ass but couldn't remember actually stretching him or rolling on the condom. The snugness of the latex was no match for the hot grip and slick slide into Jensen, and he had to grip his dick at the base to keep from coming right there.

Jensen lifted his head, turned it. "Do it," he muttered.

It was a gripping, sucking _push_ pull in and out, deeper and then shallower, then deeper again until he bottomed out and just _pressed_ for a minute, mind blank of anything that wasn't the _smellsoundfeeltaste_ of Jensen. He glanced down as he started to move again, observing the white pressure spots his thumbs left on Jensen's ass cheeks, panting hard and biting his lip as he watched that lube-shiny pink hole grasp his cock.

Jared leaned forward then, draping himself over Jensen's back and running his tongue along the cords of his neck, licking up salty sweat and braising the roof of his mouth with it as his thrusts rocked them both forward against the arm of the couch. His hips smacked satisfyingly against Jensen's ass, and now Jensen was moaning a little even though a minute ago he'd looked like he was completely spent.

Those little moans sent Jared right over the edge, white-hot pleasure coursing up his spine and bursting behind his eyes. This, he realized in an odd moment of clarity... _this_ was what he wanted. He wanted this, with Jensen, as long and as often as Jensen would let him have it. Just this. Exhaustion reared up and filled his world with black.

It was a little strange, waking up from a moment of unconsciousness to find yourself slumped on top of your male co-star, which is of course exactly how Jared found himself when he blinked awake. He groaned softly as his shaky arms pushed him upright, and then he was pulling back, one hand on Jensen's lower back and the other on the edge of the condom.

"Shit," Jensen muttered, turning over when Jared left the sofa to get rid of the used rubber. "C'mon back here." He rubbed his sweaty belly lightly, waiting for Jared to return.

Jared tucked himself onto the couch, one of his thighs between Jensen's, and nuzzled his face against Jensen's chest. "That was..." he trailed off, lifted his head, and pressed a kiss to Jensen's chin, a smile curling his lips slightly. "Haven't felt this good in _weeks_."

"Mmm," Jensen agreed. "No more shit about rebound, right?" He stretched lazily under Jared's weight.

"I gave up on rebound last week," Jared replied. "This was me moving on."

"You were moving on _something_ , I know that." Jensen scritched at his side. "What are the chances a guy could get a shower around here?"

"Later," Jared said. He grabbed at the back of the couch, pulling a throw blanket down and draping it awkwardly with one hand over them both. "Time to sleep."


End file.
